


Abduction.

by wolfleigh



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clexa, Confusion, F/F, Jealousy, Just something i wrote, Kidnapped!clarke, Kidnapper!Lexa, Kidnapping, OTP Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfleigh/pseuds/wolfleigh
Summary: Clarke wakes up in an unknown cellar, alone. Her life has been ripped away from her and is now in the hands of a mysterious brunette. Kidnapping movies aren’t anything to similar to this, and the woman leaves her confused.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 13
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to say that I appreciate all the clexa authors right now. If you are writing anything with clexa in it, Thankyou. We didn’t get the screen time we deserved. It’s been so long, I’m still mourning, but I read these instead. Thankyou! ;) Ps. I wrote this at 11PM, I finished it this morning. I’ve been reading clexa fics for a week, literally, so this came to mind. It’s quarantine so if I don’t update please don’t be mad, although I might. They deserve justice. 
> 
> I do not condone abduction/kidnapping, it is against the law and is not okay in any circumstances. This is just a fan fiction, an alternate universe and I do not condone this situation in real life.

Bold and damp

Clarke felt her head grasp onto reality as she slowly awoke, eyes twitching and head rolled to the side. A faint dripping sound came from behind her; spilling onto the floor every couple of seconds. 

_ Drip. Drip. drip. _

The blonde held her breath as footsteps came from above, ceiling shaking and dust releasing onto her head and into her hair. Gross. Her lids pried open and her lips felt dry and chapped. The skin had peeled on them and it only worsened her pain. How long had Clarke been here? 

There was nothing to see but an empty concrete space, a small staircase infront of where Clarke sat, leading to a wooden door that had a metal lock. A flickering lamp hung idly from above, lacking electricity. From what the blonde assumed, the door seemed shut, and the tightrope digging into her wrists made it known that her captor did not want her to leave. The floor was icy and the interior of this dark room was grey, dull and lifeless, not too far from how she was feeling herself.

The blonde’s strained eyes scanned the perimeter of this empty dungeon, thinking of endless possibilities and situations in which Clarke could formulate a plan and easily escape. Rex was still in her apartment, a rescue dog that had been adopted at only a few months old. She wanted to make sure he was okay, time had surely passed since she had left for work. Reality was quite different to her inner monologue- there was nothing to climb onto, crawl out of or even scream to. Clarke was truly alone, unless?

“Is anybody there?!”

She called out with a rasp, voice almost breaking halfway through her cry for help. The lack of moisture in her throat made it hard to talk. The shuffling from above came to a sudden halt and the blonde felt her heart do the same. The person that had abducted her could probably sense that something was off- it wouldn’t be surprising if a victim of kidnapping wanted help.

“HELP!”

Clarke used the rest of her strength to scream, slumping back against the solid pole that restrained her. Feet clambered outside the wooden door, a key twisting in the metal hatch. She flinched and tried to scramble away from her deadly fate, but it didn’t make much difference.

The door opened slowly, a shadowed silhouette slipping inside the cool basement, locking the door behind them. There had been no outbursts of anger or violence, much to Clarke’s dismay, but the person just stood there. Watching. Clarke hadn’t fully prepared herself for death, but it would come soon enough. Her will wasn’t written, and it wasn’t like she had a spouse to inherit her belongings. An ache was commerated towards Rex, hoping one of her coworkers would find him and take him in, not passing him back to a shelter.

“Nobody can hear you,  _ Clarke _ .”

Clarke; her name. How did this person know her name? Clarke worked as an executive assistant, her name going unknown on many occasions and to many people. It seemed unlikely that she would have a stalker, unless this person was someone she knew. 

“How’d you know m-“

“Doesn’t matter. The walls are soundproof. Besides, You should stop talking. It’ll kill your vocal chords. Water?”

A plastic cup slid across the floor, infront of Clarke but deliberately placed so that she could not reach it. Her arms were bound backwards, and she almost trembled at the inconvenience. A hoarse chuckle came from the other side, not one of malevolence but more of amusement. The figure approached cautiously, features suddenly absorbed into the dim light from above. Clarke had watched a handful of horrors where people had been kidnapped. The perpetrators were usually bald, old men, but this person was the complete opposite. A young face came into sight, stray locks of hair splayed across her forehead. Her eyes were dangerously green, holding many secrets of the unknown. The brunette was slender and petite, arms still by her side. Her lips were curved into something of a smile, sensing the confusion and shock from the woman on the floor. If she wasn’t trapped in a basement, Clarke would’ve thought of her to be extremely  _ attractive _ .

A pale hand lifted the cup off of the ground, slowly edging towards Clarke’s face. Her captor seemed calculating, not wanting the blonde to make any movements that would catch her off guard. The plastic cup hovered infront of her lips, and Clarke lurched forwards thirstily, gulping the water as if she hadn’t drank for days. It startled the taller girl, making her wobble a lit on her feet. The cool liquid was refreshing as it swished down the back of her throat, solving one of her many problems. The cup was retracted back to the ground, the brunette now crouched down with it. Her attire was oddly normal, a plain black tee with a pair of jeans. Kidnappers usually wore black hoodies or coats, with masks and aprons, but then again, this wasn’t really a movie.  _ This was reality. _

Eyes scanned across her body, assessing for any injury or bruises. The woman seemed young, and it left Clarke wondering what had happened to make her go down this path at such an age. The brunette pursed her lips and looked down silently, moving back to her feet and towards the wooden door. Clarke’s heart squeezed in terror, not wanting to be left alone again. Her stomach groaned and growled, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“You look beautiful Clarke, it’s a shame it had to be this way.”

Be what way? The blonde had never seen this person until now, so that sentence made no sense.

“Please! No!”

The door slammed to a close, the lock twisting from the other side. Wood creaked as the other travelled upstairs, leaving Clarke to sit with her thoughts in the concrete room. A part of her wished that the woman would’ve put her out of her misery, sitting there was practical torture and Clarke just wanted it to stop.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently my brain has an infatuation with writing at late times. Please feel free to comment if you have any advice or thoughts about my writing, it helps! :) Anywho, I’ve been seeing quarantine fics with CLEXA and I’ve been reading them. Honestly my favourites.

For what seemed like hours had passed, Clarke drifting in and out of consciousness. Her mind was blank, thoughts empty apart from the aches occurring consistently throughout her limbs. There had been little thudding, as opposed to the previous confrontation she had partaken with her abductor.

The cup provided earlier had fallen sideways, rolling away until it had hit a wall. The basement lamp kept buzzing quietly, sometimes turning off for a moment to come back on a few seconds later. The bulb was probably worn out, as were most things in this sad dungeon. It was clear that the owner had not taken care of it, rather using it to hold hostages with rope. There were scratch marks indented deeply to the wall on her left, and it made Clarke shudder. There had obviously been someone else here before her, struggling to escape but failing. It made her wonder. Why had that woman not been hostile towards her? Maybe it was because her fate was certain, already decided, and the blonde posed no threat to that decision.

Maybe.

Her legs twitched and her body became alert as a key turned in the stiff lock, the door opening once again to reveal the brunette. Clarke let her eyes wander; the woman didn’t seem to be in a good mood. She showed no signs of aggression, nor happiness, nothing. A tin in her hand, some sort of plastic cutlery tucked away into her palm above it. The sight went away as the lamp faltered off and on again.

“I assume you’re hungry.”

Clarke chewed her lip and looked down, another growl seeping from the emptiness of her stomach. Food would never be looked at the same. The mysterious woman let out a short chuckle, not provoking conversation. It sounded melodic and harmonious, not something of a callous kidnapper. The blonde twisted her wrists in pain, feeling little circulation in her hands. They had been restrained for quite a while, and her wrists burnt from the harsh material of the rope. A tin clattered infront of her feet, fork dropping with it. Clarke felt appreciative- this whole situation was dreadful but starving would not come from it. It seemed the figure had changed clothing since, now in a silk robe that draped across her knees. It had miniature pockets on either side, a bony hand moving around in one of the compartments, revealing a small pocket knife.

“I’m going to cut you free. Any wrong moves and it will be driven into your flesh, do not think to take my warnings lightly.”

The pocket knife flicked open, revealing a moderately sharp blade. The tall woman jostled it around between her fingers almost teasingly, eyebrows furrowed to the centre of her forehead. The knife attached to the rope binding her hands together, cutting away until it broke off. Clarke exhaled shakily and shook her arms, feeling the soreness from the friction she had endured. Those emerald eyes held a subdued expression of sympathy, one that did not make sense. If she felt so bad- why chain her down here like some sort of animal? The woman stood closely, hands clasped together infront of her torso. She seemed to transfer her weight from one foot to the other, not staying still.

“Thankyou…”

“-Lexa.”

Lexa, a name that had not been brought up in the past. It was all too confusing, and Clarke was yet to fish out any motives for this abduction. She didn’t obsessively use social media, and all her accounts had been set to private. 

It just didn't make sense. The blonde reached to the tin, cracking it open and digging into the fish with a fork. It wasn’t pleasant but it wasn’t nothing either. The brunette was holding back her surprise from the mannerisms Clarke projected. A thankyou wasn’t expected after tying her against a pole.

“Strangely enough, you are yet to ask me what you are doing here. All of which will be revealed in time. For now, I suggest you find ways to entertain yourself. If that’s even possible.” 

A ghost of a smirk played against her lips and Lexa backed away towards the door, head cocked to an angle. Clarke was too busy gulping down her tuna, attention diverted as the lock shook and the door shut again. Her imagination went to her close group of friends, Octavia, Raven and Bellamy. If Clarke went missing for a suspicious interval of time, surely she would be reported missing. A report would help, but there was little hope being trapped underground. 

The tuna had taken barely three minutes to be demolished, now being digested happily in her stomach. Clarke stumbled to her knees, realising that the rope was no more and she finally had the freedom to move around. This could be an opportunity to escape.

Clarke had never considered herself an opportunist, normally thinking about decisions before making them. It often altered if people she loved or cared about were involved. That would be when impulsivity came into play. Being impulsive wasn’t the best of both worlds, though; it had led to a string of bad decisions throughout highschool and college. Some teenage boys had ‘egged’ her mom’s house on Halloween, and as every other year, it would take hours to clean up. Clarke made sure the next time that she would hide behind a bush nearby, throwing eggs at them in vengeance. It was impulsive, but fun. 

The blonde shuffled to the wooden door that Lexa had locked. She grasped the handle and shook it a few times for good measure. The hinges seemed unfortunately sturdy, and the door didn’t seem like it could be kicked down without making noise. There was a small slither beneath it, allowing air to waft in and out. No light source was on the other side, so it must just be a set of stairs leading up.

Clarke spun on her feet as the dripping noise continued, a red substance soaked through the ceiling, spread out in a dewy patch. Her nose crinkled at the sight, not wanting to further explore what the substance could be. It pooled into a puddle on the floor, just a little away from the pole. Some voices could be heard from the other side of the door, back pressed against the surface. It seemed to be at the top of the staircase, muted by what could be a wall.

“She can’t know! Not yet.”

“You aren’t evil. Don’t do this.”

Silence, followed by a forceful smacking noise. Clarke pressed her ear against the door, shutting her eyes to concentrate. Gathering information was important, according to the movies she had watched. It helped broaden knowledge of where her location may be. 

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do! Do you know who I am?! Huh? Say it!”

“Lexa..I didn’t mean to offend-“

“Ofcourse you did. Leave at once, now!”

Their conversation had clearly ended, though Clarke did not know who the other person was. It was evident that her captor held some authority amongst her peers, and it had led to the other being sent away. The dying lamp shattered, glass sparking to the floor. It left her in a state of darkness, no other lights assisting with the pitch black void that consumed the room. 

“Lexa!”

Clarke screamed, quivering as everything turned dark. It was not much of a surprise that the lamp had fused, it had kept turning on and off anyways. The fear of darkness had lingered since a child. It wasn’t because of the lighting, more of what could be in it. Clarke didn’t like to have her senses impaired.

“ _Lexa!_ ”

It didn’t seem to be the smartest idea, calling down what could be an angered heathen. There came no response, and it appeared that the room really was soundproof. Clarke slid to the floor in defeat, tucking her head into her knees, praying that she could wake up and it would all be over.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice how her instinct is to go to Lexa for help.


End file.
